Rising Sword
by PointCaliber
Summary: After two decades of missing the new Sword has revealed himself to Krystal just like the Oracle had prophesied, now he must leave and begin the lifelong duties as the Sword of Cerinia after narrowly stopping Andross's medium. He must return to Kew and search for an old friend of Krystal's, a lost Vi'xon caught in the middle the planet's horrific slave trade. But can he find her?


_A/N: Okay kids, this is the story following Ultionis and it starts a little while before Command and will end after one of Command's many endings, I'm still debating which. Dinosaur Planet fans are most welcome here ^^_

* * *

**Prologue**

**.:_The disappearance of the Silver Moon_:.**

* * *

_.:Days prior to Saurian incident:._

* * *

**In** the far reaches of space a Cerinian shuttle sped away from a doomed system caring only one passenger. She sat curled up on the floor, arms wrapped around her soft sapphire blue legs, head down stone cold tears rolling down her face as she tried to make sense of what just happened and what was going to happen. All she knew is the great Wolven leader Randorn Wolferoes; the father to two missing sons, a man of honor and respect had betrayed the Cerinian people in one swift action. Or so she thought.

"Damn it... Randorn, WHY?!" She launched her fists to the floor out of anger, screaming it to the roof. It was just like her father had told her time and time again, never trust a Wolven, not one that could so easily become corrupted by an outsider, Andross with Randron's help had doomed an entire people. The azure feline let her head hang low again not even caring about her tears wetting her dark yellow tunic.

Ironically enough the Oracle made mention of a Wolven she was paired to be with, making her all the more infuriated with everything, of all the three dominate races it just had to be a Wolven. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a long deep breath in, slowly releasing to calm her clouded mind down so she could focus on what was going to happen next when the ship reached its unknown destination.

She pinched into the sides of her tunic giving it a tug upwards so it'd sit more comfortably while moving around. Using her telescopic quarterstaff she pressed the blunt end onto the corner between wall panel and floor, twisting the grip until it made a heavy click. Gradually it pushed her up to her feet, struggling to lift her weight as it wasn't made for personal convenience.

She retracted it back to its carry form making it no longer than fourteen inches in length, unlike the Krazoan power staff a Vi'xon quarterstaff was their own adaptation of the much older technology tipped with a medium length Venira blade or curved render blade as it was commonly known among the Vi'xon people. Comprising of the same metals as the power staff its able to channel many forms of energy into the blade giving it a deadly ultrasonic vibration able to cut almost every known material organic and otherwise. Designed for a multi-situation use its length can be extended to user's desire and became the weapon of choice during the Crimson Dawn war for the smaller feline race.

The staff clipped on the back of her waist just above her tail with the tip pointing out to the left for quick and deadly swipes in close-quarter situations. Although she never once considered killing or the need to kill another living being no matter the situation, just the thought of death made her shiver and anxious. Even with all the mental conditioning she received from her father's telepathic exercises nothing could ever prepare her for something like that.

Closing her eyes she reached out telepathically for any nearby Cerinians heading in the same direction as her, female intuition told her she wasn't the only one out there. A singular mental aura around a distant ship was familiar, but weak and just out of range for her to connect with, biting her bottom lip and breathing heavier slower breaths. Seconds of antagonizing concentration was rewarded with a surprise.

"Krystal! Is that you!?" she shouted out mentally feeling excited and very relieved that her childhood friend made it out as well.

"Syria? By the Goddess it's a massive relief to hear your voice" Krystal breathed a sigh of relief sharing the same amount of solace, "How did you make it out? I thought I was the only one"

"Same, but my father had this prepared sometime like he knew this was going to happen." Syria said retracing her steps before she was put onto the ship.

"Strange so did mine and... Randorn, I just hope our parents survived"

Syria went quiet for a few moments to hold back tears; she knew they were the only two of their families to have made it out alive. "Krystal, we're the only ones…"

"What do you mean?" Krystal asked worried that her father Marcus had lied to her about them seeing each other again.

"Before my father pushed me into this he said there weren't enough of these ships to get off the planet in time and only had enough for us…" Syria replied now feeling empty and remorseful for Krystal. It was easy for a Vi'xon to let go when it came to the passing for family members but for a Ceni such as Krystal it was much harder since their families were far closer than any other two species.

Krystal remained silent as grief engulfed her; Syria could sense it too as the bottomless emotion swept over her like a storm utterly destroying all hope and imagined scenarios of her being reunited with her family.

"Are you sure? My father wouldn't lie" Krystal said, trying to reassure herself.

"I know Marcus wouldn't lie, ever, but we're on our own now. The Oracle warned us this would happen remember and I don't think your father, mother or aunty wouldn't want to you to be weak now, they would want you to be strong for them." Much like her father Syria was a very strong willed individual, and she felt like she had to live up to his title whenever possible.

"I know… But this has happened all too quickly, I- I don't want to leave them behind, I won't!" The teen-aged feline felt Krystal's hatred for Andross grow exponentially, this was a surprising turn for the young vixen, and not once had the feline sensed this kind of hatred source itself from her friend.

"Krystal?" the feline whimpered telepathically, strangely their psionic connected ceased but it left Krystal's hate lingering in Syria's mind with no trance of the vixen's metal signature left behind.

The cockpit of the started to make an array of unfamiliar ear perking noises accompanied by flashing lights and a translucent project above the console of the ship; wanting inspect these wonderfully new entities boastfully greeting her eyes and ears the feline stumbled her way into the head of ship still adapting to the artificial gravity.

"Wow" Fascinating floating images of a completely unknown nature, what appeared to be diagrams orbited around a highly detailed red object strobing blue. Bemused by the image she reached out with her right hand unsure if this wonderfully new entity had a corporeal form; she waved her hand left and right through the translucent object to only find it was a fancy illustration of light with a strong heat emanating from diode below.

Large metal shields slid over the windscreen creating another image but this time of a blue round ball with a Krazoan exclamation mark in the center when the shields collided together they clamped with a thunders lock, blocking all light from either exiting or entering. In these moments she heard her father and mother both humming a lullaby together the very same one they would hum to the feline to put her to sleep as a kitten.

Syria's heart pounded against her chest faster and faster, the desperate urge to see her family once more was the forefront of her mind, "Mother… Father…" she muttered falling to her knees with the tears returning to her eyes.

Unable to change the course of the ship she felt powerless and just accepted this was going to be last time she hears soothing tones. Their voices fell silent leaving a void of sorrow but hope in its wake knowing their only child is safe.

A tremendous wave of concussive energy overcame the ship shaking it profusely; causing the electrical systems to shut-off. Syria was ripped from the deck for a brief period experiencing weightlessness and fear, as she free floated a second wave hit the ship sending her accelerating to the cold steel floor connecting skull to metal.

The ship quieted down as the systems returned to their original state, ceiling lights came back but in a dark misty red, as did the artificial gravity; like a strap put on too tight it nailed the feline to the cold floor. Her head spun around and around until it was too much, wearily she closed her eyes until her mind had quieted down.

* * *

_.:Hours later:._

* * *

**Syria** came to, but her eyes remained heavy and closed. Head still in a daze and throbbing, she slowly opened her dreary eyes to only be attacked by the blinding white light coming from the ceiling lights. Using her elbow she pushed herself up into a leaning position against the wall of the cockpit. Resting her throbbing head against the nice cool metal that did have some pain reducing effects. With the palm of her hands she wiped the tried droopy feeling from her eyes and made for the controls of the ship.

When she took her to feet something felt off about the ship. Instead of the heavy sandal like feel of the artificial gravity tying her to the deck it instead felt natural.

"That's strange" she said, spinning one of the chairs around to sit on. "Okay… lets see" she browsed over the flight control panel utterly unable to decipher what was what; shandning a curse word into the forefront of her mind.

A single segregated handle looked promising enough for the blue feline to inspect; wrapping her fingers around the grip she pulled it down until it met the end activating a loud mechanical moaning causing her ears to perk up. Syria looked around for a few seconds when she noticed the shields were parting ways unveiling a drastically changed outside environment. This new exterior environment was strange metal atrium bathed greys, rusted browns and oily blacks, from what she could see it a catwalk on the level above. Five unknown minds were picked up by her telepathy, one of them was fast approaching the front of her ship to see what had just happened.

She dived off the chair and behind the panel wanting to avoid detection, these people, whoever they were did not have friendly intentions in mind for the occupants of this vessel they'd came across. Unable to hear what they were saying she infiltrated one of the five minds; ripping every usable bit of information from his memory, location, what they were doing and why.

"Mercenaries…" She muttered, taking one last peek over the board she saw a large wolf walking towards the ship with strange looking attire and a huge blocky object in his hands, whatever it was it had a large circular blade and seemed pretty heavy. This wasn't the first time she'd run into others from outside the Cerinian system, a brown and white vulpine had landed on their planet some years ago in a critical state of health, almost looking like he had narrowly survived an execution

Syria remained undetected as the wolf passed by; she followed his direction crawling on her stomach being wary not to rise above knee height with every forward motion.

The wolf's mental signature stopped out outside the airlock door, Syria took a standing position on the left side; hand gripping onto the staff ready to strike. "C'mon, what are you waiting for, you know I'm here"

There was nothing but an suspenseful silence, she could tell they were waiting for something to happen and what ever it was it wasn't going to be nice; she intently pressed her ear against the interior airlock with her heart steadily beating faster and faster she could almost hear every thump of her chest.

A loud ear-piercing metallic ripping noise suddenly vibrated the airlock taking the feline by surprise. Not knowing what to expect she turned to the offensive extending her staff to a fourth of its total length pointing the curved blade towards the door ready for anything.

Sparks started to fly from the top left of the airlock with a shiny blades occasionally poking through the door as it made its way down the door letting the pressurized air escape. Syria stood solemnly in the middle of the small living quarters watching the door being cut in rising anxiety. The cutting stopped the very bottom and the door slid open allowing a flood of thick white smoke to fill the ship.

Syria's eyes stang, her nose and throat burnt from inhaling the putrid fog but she did her best not to cough or make a sound or risk loosing the element of surprise. "_Hold it in, just a little longer…_" she thought to her self struggling not to take another breath.

She squinted her eyes and tightened her grip on her staff as a shadowy figure started to form amidst the cloud, it was the same wolf that used that object to detach the airlock from the ship. His first footstep was soft, only making a faint noise on the deck of the shuttle.

"You know there's no use hiding girl, if we didn't know you were in there, we wouldn't have found you." His accent was a deep southerly but managed to speak Visani relatively well but with a harsh dry undertone creating a tiny lisp, extremely similar to a sub-species of Wolven that lived out on the Concord Dawn islands. "You may as well come out now"

His words vexed the young feline, he didn't sound like he were a hostile being but more of a friendly authoritative type, which seriously conflicted to what he was thinking.

"Stay back" she growled maintaining her stance in front of the door.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you" he said, coming closer relieving more of his face as the smoke dissipated, "I'm here to help you"

"That's the biggest lie I've ever heard" Syria scoffed, "Disgusting scum, you should crawl back into what ever hole you came out of!"

The smoke finally cleared revealing a frightening tall, brown and faintly blue tinged wolf pointing a blocky object directly at her head "What's your name girl? I'm sure we can make a deal" He suggested with a smug grin.

"I know what you're thinking Temuera, you should know better than lie to a telepath" she said in a calm tone trying to sound in control, "You're pretty bloody stupid for a Wolven"

Temuera chuckled while still pointing the object at her head, "You've got a sharp tongue for a Vi'xon, especially for someone of your age, I like you, what's your name?"

"First tell me how and why you're here, then I'll tell you my name" she asked smoothly, figuring he was a talker by his acute interest in stories and retelling past events.

The canine lowered the object and smiled changing his thought pattern, "Fair enough, where to start?" he turned to the open airlock, "Vode'an cee'mohhe! Uio talsk las'iuno!" he yelled out to the pack outside of the shuttle.

Syria wasn't a linguist but from what her father had taught her about the Wolven language '_Vode'an_' meant brothers and '_cee'mohhe_' meant friendly, lower your arms, no danger the rest she wasn't sure of giving her spine a cold chill of uncertainty. However the Cerinian language as a whole was relatively similar species to species and is based of the foundations of the Ceni language and then adapted and changed by each of the races.

He slotted the slotted the blocky object into an odd looking thigh holster; taking a seat on the bunk rubbing his eyes. Syria edged out the way of the door keeping the staff pointed the suspicious Wolven who seemed way to relaxed and comfortable for what he was thinking about doing moments ago.

"You're not going to take a seat?" he asked looking at the point of the reflective silver blade.

"No" she said back standing her ground "I don't trust Wolvens"

He gave an agreeing nod, "Can't disagree, I don't even trust myself"

"I can't care less, now tell me what you're doing here" she demanded pushing the blade closer to his neck.

He gave his neck a jerk back not wanting to loose any of his dark wood brown fur off his neck, "Point taken, but if I'm going to tell you, lower your weapon."

She was hesitant to do what he said, but something in her mind told her she had to or she mightn't end up in a better position than what they had originally planned for her. "Fine…"

Contracting the staff it reverted back to its storage form but she didn't holster it, her gut feeling and thoughts of the other Wolvens indicated keeping it out would be in her best interest.

"So, I'm more than certain now you know my name, even before we met, you've heard of me?"

"You were one Wolferoes' loyal lackeys, or at least you thought you were" she answered snidely, making fun of his past. "But how did you get here?"

"After the high and might Darmascus Rian put Wolferoes back in his place I was left with nothing, lost just about everything, no thanks to the poor excuse for a Wolven. Nothing to do I left, and found myself here working for someone, how do you think I found you?" he kept the string of memories hidden from her sight not wanting to visually reveal anything to the feline spiking the feeling of desperation to get out of there. "Now I've told you what you what you wanted to know so tell me your name."

When he mention the Vi'xon leader's name hatred lived and breathed with the very though, making Syria all the more scared. She had heard of her father's retelling of Temura's exploits during the war and his near fatal encounter with the ex-communicated Wolven knight near the Dalimuria crossings.

"Andross…" she whispered to herself, seeing a faint memory of the Wolven meeting the alien on a distant planet ravaged by industry, agreeing to work of the ape for a hefty monetary deal.

Syria extended her staff to the absolute maximum; sticking the blunt of the staff into his gut with every ounce of aggravated strength she had pinning him to the bunk. Temuera was taken by surprise, the feline moved way too fast for his pre-cognitive senses to react. Channeling all her chi energy into the power crystal of the staff it irritated a magnificent pulsating heatwave dashed with purple aura being funneled down to the end of the staff.

Twisting the turn able handle grip allowed the staff to channel collected telepathic energy from the feline creating a potential telekinetic field that pulsed down the internal conductors that connected the grip to the crystal located inside the butt of the staff.

The muscles in a Wolven were laced with finite amounts of bodily made cobalt which gave them their pre-cognitive reflexes, fairly limited telekinesis and vague blue fur. Darmascus learnt late in the war if a Wolven was subjected to a high density telekinetic field projected from a Krazoan power staff or transferred from Krazoan vibro blade could stimulate the bio-element enough for it to heat up and burn away at the muscle tissue like a raging fire through a dry forest, effectively tearing the Wolven from the inside out causing nearly irreversible damage or death.

Syria watched with some misplaced sense of hate and pleasure as the Wolven froze up, mouth wide open trying to sound out for help with no avail, the white in his eyes turned blood shot, black blood steadily began to stream from his nostrils burning the fur down the front of his muzzle searing scars into his lips.

Temuera's body convulsed like it were on fire for only a few seconds before he went limp, Syria wasn't sure his he were dead or just had passed out from the pain, since she could only detect little to no brain activity. She stood in stunned silence still holding the staff to his stomach not knowing what to make of what she had done or if she had killed him out of rage.

All she could do now was back away and wait for the others outside to realize what had happened. She gave a quick glance at a shadow growing closer, "Alor'da gia kadio?" the enclosing Wolven asked aloud with a hint of worry in his voice.

Temuera's brain activity picked up slightly, Syria turned back to the injured Wolven to see he was holding the object he holstered earlier, her azure eyes narrowed in on his index figure squeezing down on something.

A bright white and electrical blue flash dazzled her eyes coupled with ear deafening noise brought the feline to her knees. It felt like a piece of her stomach was missing all of a sudden; dropping her staff she look down to see blood staining her yellow tunic like an overflowing well progressively getting bigger and her abdomen getting colder.

Never had she felt this alone or this cold. Temuera's bloodshot eyes were all she could see through her failing vision and his satisfied grin coming within inches of her.

"You're going to make us a lot of money where we're going" he snickered reaching down to her stomach to apply pressure to the wound. "Now you look really familiar, little Rian"

"Go back to the six hells you bastard…" she uttered before losing all consciousness.

* * *

_A/N- So that's the prologue, won't be working on this for awhile._


End file.
